Poems begining by I
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Is there any reward?
© Hilaire Belloc
Is there any reward?
I'm beginning to doubt it.
I am broken and bored,
Is there any reward
In Praise Of Writing Letters
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Blest be the Man! his Memory at least,
Who found the Art, thus to unfold his Breast,
And taught succeeding Times an easy way
Their secret Thoughts by Letters to convey;
To baffle Absence, and secure Delight,
Which, till that Time, was limited to Sight.
In a Lady's Album
© Marcus Clarke
WHAT can I write in thee, O dainty book,
About whose daintiness faint perfume lingers
In the footsteps of the walking air
© Kenneth Patchen
In the footsteps of the walking air
Sky's prophetic chickens weave their cloth of awe
And hillsides lift green wings in somber journeying.
Is it Possible
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
Is it possibleThat so high debate,So sharp, so sore, and of such rate,Should end so soon and was begun so late?Is it possible?
In Spain
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams
Turns up the grains of gold already tried
With spur and sail, for I go to seek the Thames
Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride,
I Find No Peace
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;
And nought I have, and all the world I season.
I Abide and Abide and Better Abide
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
I abide and abide and better abide,
And after the old proverb, the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say,
'Let me alone and I will provide.'
In My Youth I Was a Tireless Dancer
© Edward Dorn
But now I pass
graveyards in a car.
The dead lie,
unsuperstitiously,
I look at the swaling sunset
© David Herbert Lawrence
I look at the swaling sunset
And wish I could go also
Through the red doors beyond the black-purple bar.
In The Forest
© Sarojini Naidu
HERE, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead,
Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre
Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red,
Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire.
Intimates
© David Herbert Lawrence
I handed her the mirror, and said:
Please address these questions to the proper person!
Please make all requests to head-quarters!
In all matters of emotional importance
please approach the supreme authority direct! -
If You are a Man
© David Herbert Lawrence
If you are a man, and believe in the destiny of mankind
then say to yourself: we will cease to care
about property and money and mechanical devices,
and open our consciousness to the deep, mysterious life
that we are now cut off from.
Irony
© David Herbert Lawrence
Always, sweetheart,
Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry,
Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very
Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring
In a Boat
© David Herbert Lawrence
See the stars, love,
In the water much clearer and brighter
Than those above us, and whiter,
Like nenuphars.
In The British Museum
© Thomas Hardy
'What do you see in that time-touched stone,
When nothing is there
But ashen blankness, although you give it
A rigid stare?
Indian Summer
© Eileen Carney Hulme
Like a deep blue wave
of passion
you shore into the room
where I sit waiting quietly,
open-booked.
In Dispraise Of Poetry
© Jack Gilbert
When the King of Siam disliked a courtier,
he gave him a beautiful white elephant.
The miracle beast deserved such ritual
that to care for him properly meant ruin.
Yet to care for him improperly was worse.
It appears the gift could not be refused.
